


Night Lights.

by Lady_Talla_Doe



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Consent, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pollen'd Chase, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Sex Pollen, like a painful level of embarrassment to go with the horny, there will be cuddling later on okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 16:57:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20745605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Talla_Doe/pseuds/Lady_Talla_Doe
Summary: Shadowsan is on only one side- Carmen's.  Which means keeping her allies safe ( even allies that don't necessarily know that's what they are yet)Agent Devineaux runs afoul of one of Dr. Bellum's failed experiments, and Shadowsan is there to see him through the immediate effects, while they both field the fallout of the only other time they've ever met; Chase's torture at Shadowsan's hands.TDLR; sex pollen with an angsty twist but is 100% consentual sexwise.





	Night Lights.

**Author's Note:**

> THIS HAS TWO PARTS, my laptop crashed and i dun wanna write tonight so whatever.   
it's like it says on the tin, sex pollen fic. gunna be lots of sex and lots of angst.

* * *

* * *

“_LE FEMME ROUGE!”_ His voice echoed through the room, crashing back at him in a confusing mix of his hurried footsteps. Agent Devineaux stumbled to a stop, cursing as his feet slipped on the slick floor – there was no sign of Carmen Sandiego anywhere, but he had seen her red coat duck into this building. He would not be alluded so easily!

The delicate crunch of glass underfoot made him pause. Lifting his foot, Devineaux frowned at the strange thin vials laying on the floor, several under his foot. The blue powder shimmered, rising on the faint air currents of his movement, and he stepped back quickly. _ Oh. That is not good_.

But it was much too late, and the spores were already rising all around him. Devinaux covered his mouth and nose with his arm, and started to the door, but there was a strange cotton taste inside his mouth, and the smell of geraniums filled the room. He could have swore he’d moved quickly, but the door seemed to be the same distance away- his head felt light, the rosy, sharp smell overwhelming.

Gasping sharply, he dropped his arm, and shoved himself away from the vial in his hand – when had he picked it up?- dropping it with a crystalline chime as it shattered. More floral scented _something_ filled the air, but this time Chase’s feet weren’t seemingly glued to the floor.

He stumbled to the door, and out into the night, worry temporarily erasing the thought of the scarlet thief from his mind.

He wasn’t certain how he made it home. He assumed by the mud on his shoes, and how soaked from the rain he was, that he walked. But his body was so _hot_, temperature far too high; Chase fell against his front door and with shaking hands tried to force his key into the lock. It skidded across the door the first time he tried, and he had to take a deep breathe and steady himself. On the second attempt he was able to get the door unlocked.

It was less opening it, and more falling against his unlatched door, and having it give way underneath him. he staggered into his home, shutting the door behind him, and throwing the manual bolt when it was closed. _They can break down the door_, he thought, shaking his head when he realized that if he needed medical attention he would need to call someone.

_I will not_, he decided. If this killed him, he deserved it.

Chase made it several staggering steps down the hall, and into the bathroom. He was so warm, his shirt sticking to his skin. Panting for breath, he kicked off his shoes, and left them at the door of the washroom, while sawing at his tie. He couldn’t get it off, but he clawed it loose, and pulled at his collar until the buttons gave way, the first two ripping out of the material and bouncing off into the darkness. He heard them bouncing on the tiles as he pulled down the shower hose, cranking it on, and slumped beside the tub. He didn’t have the energy to crawl into it, so he simply cranked the water on, and let it run over his heated body, sticking his clothing to his skin; shower spray hitting his neck, and running down it to his chest, turning the white material of his shirt transparent. It ran down his leg, and soaked into his socks, before circling the drain by his foot with a gurgle.

The sound of the water was deafening, or maybe it was his heartbeat, and the rush of his own blood.

_I am so warm. _

His body was burning. Why was he burning?

~*~

Shadowsan hadn’t meant to follow him. He had been tailing Carmen, following her at a distance, when the French inspector had lost her, and turned into a building Shadowsan recognized - an old VILE lab, scheduled for destruction.

It was a dangerous place, and not somewhere the unwary should be stumbling. More so for certain people then others.

It took him to long to get down from the rooftops, to the street, however, for the time he could slip inside, the air was already filled with softly glowing blue pollen, floating on the faint, whisper of a breeze caused by his, and Agent Devineaux’s breathing. The tall agent stood in the center of the room, head cocked to the side, looking curiously as pollen rose from the broken vial in his hand.

Shadowsan covered his face with his sleeve, pursing his lips. This was not ideal.

The chemical this VILE lab was working on had been designed to lower resistance to suggestion, and make anyone targeted by it easily influenced by anyone _not_ under the chemical’s influence. It had, however, had an unforeseen side effect, and the tests had been shut down. Exposure in the test subjects had been limited, but Agent Devireaux had an entire vial close to his face, and each breath brought more of the pollen into his air way; he breathed it in, then out again, his breathes pushing the glowing lights farther and farther into the room.

Shadowsan made up his mind, and bent to pick up a clean glass beaker, throwing it at the corner behind the Agent.

He jolted like he’d been slapped, and stepped back quickly, the drug dropping from his hand to shatter on the floor. Blue glowing pollen dust spread like a gentle wave over his feet.

The agent blinked rapidly, visibly confused, and rubbed at his face, then staggered for the door. His eyes were wide, brown eyes eaten up by his blown pupils until his eyes seemed light-swallowing black, and where his face wasn’t ashen pale, he was flushed almost rose, the fine sheen of sweat breaking out along his hairline.

Shadowsan kept out of view, but he would not be able to leave the Agent like this, all alone in the night. But first he had something he needed to do.

~*~

The door made a faint click as he stepped inside, shutting it carefully behind him. The agent’s lock had broken easily; Shadowsan had forced it, but used the manual lock to relock it from the other side. That, and a chair that he fetched from the small dinning room, propped under the doorknob, would keep anyone out.

Agent Devineaux’s apartment was dark, and silent expect for the sound of the water. As he stepped quietly towards the bathroom door, he could pick out the sound of harsh breathes, soft French curses. Shadowsan took a deep breath, and let it out slowly; he knew what it meant, if he stepped into Agent Devineaux’s line of sight. He recognized the breathless, desperate sounds.

There was a side effect, not very common, but enough so that VILE had discontinued production. Targets, instead of becoming passive and docile, remained cognisant but their bodily awareness was heightened to such a degree that at the average dose, arousal was inevitable. Shadowsan felt his neck warm.

_Subjects could not complete solo_, the file had simply read.

This entire situation was in a very grey area, somewhere his somewhat strained and very battered moral compass was unsure about. If he left now, Agent Devineaux’s health would be at risk, seeking release until he injured himself.

_But._

Again he sighed, hesitating. This wasn’t something he could simply _ask_.

Frustrated with the entire situation, and every sloppy, mismanaged detail leading up to it, Shadowsan turned the door knob to the washroom, and pushed open the door.

He took a sharp breath.

The agent was… a _sight_.

Laying in a slump against the broad side of the old fashioned clawfoot tub at the side of the small, square room, he had his head tipped back and leaning on the edge, exposing the long column of his throat – more on skin on show, his collar wrenched open by Devineaux’s own restless hands. His mouth open to pant, and he watched Shadowsan without moving.

The room was frigid from the spray of the showerhead he clutched to his collarbone, water running down his front and soaking through his shirt until it was almost as transparent as glass, showing every curve and line of his body as his chest rose and fell with each harsh breath. The water puddled around his long, sprawling legs, soaking into the fabric of his trousers before snaking down the small round floor drain set in the tiled floor, almost perfectly between his socked feet.

Shadowsan took a slow step into the small room, and Devineaux’s hands flexed on the showerhead. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip, and his eyes narrowed.

“What do you want?” He croaked. The agents thick accent forced its self to the front, and he struggled to sit up, clutching the cold water to himself like a child clutched their favourite toy. His face was pale, almost sickly so, dark circles under his eyes, but also flushed up his neck and down his chest, shaking, and sweat crept down his hairline as Shadowsan watched.

He took another measured step forward, holding on hand out to gentle the man, then knelt slowly, and slid his katana free from his belt, leaning the weapon against the wall.

“I am not here to harm you.” It was a struggle to keep the impatience from his voice; this sort of kindness was not something that came as naturally to him as it did to Carmen. It would be much easier to simply force the issue, but he had hurt this man enough.

“_C’est des conneries_! I do not believe you!” Agent Devineaux hissed, but in his state he could not do more then regard Shadowsan with suspicion and wait for his next move.

Shadowsan stayed where he was, knees growing damp from the wet tiles.

“You have been exposed to a discontinued project. It is very dangerous. Reactions like yours are why Dr. Bellum ceased it’s production.” Pausing, Shadowsan tried to find a delicate way to explain what was about to happen to the agent, but abandoned it after a moment. “You are likely beginning to feel the symptoms.”

He cast his gaze meaningfully down Devineaux’s body, and the Agent curled up with a hiss, the flash of panic in those brown eyes bringing unexpected sympathy to Shadowsan. He took a deep breath, and attempted to think of how Carmen would handle this, with all her compassion- as practical as his approach was, this was not a time for practicality.

“It is not intended for this, nor were you a target. It was a misfortunate accident, and very bad luck. I am…” he thought on it, then knelt properly, hands on his knees. Agent Devineaux looked at him with such wide eyes, dark with apprehension. Shadowsan could understand how he might feel, caught up in the snare of VILE’s claws once again, with his former torturer kneeling before him. invading his personal space, having once more broken into his home.

How violating this all must feel. 

“I am sorry, Agent Devineaux, that this is happening to you. That you have had this frightening thing that has brought myself into your home occur. I would not have wished this on you, nor anyone else. I am here to help you.” He said softly.

Agent Devineaux watched him, critical and tense, for many heartbeats. But then he shut his eyes, clenching his jaw as his body shuddered, red rising up his neck, and against his will one of his hands crept down his chest.

He jerked it back up a moment later, clenching it on the shower head, and glared at Shadowsan.

“Tell me what is happening to me.” He demanded.

“It is intended to lower the defenses and make people easy to sway, very suggestible. In a portion of the sample trial, however, those dosed became highly… aroused.” Shadowsan paused. Agent Devineaux lifted his lip in a snarl, and when he spread his legs again in discomfort, Shadowsan could see the source of the problem, outlined by Devineaux’s soaked pants.

“That is not all, you are not telling me everything there is!”

Shadowsan ducked his head.

“It will not go away on its own.” He said softly, watching Devineaux’s watery reflection in the tiles snarl at him.

“_And_? I _cannot solve this_, is this what you say?” He spat, curling away from Shadowsan. His harsh tone hid the first traces of fear well, but not well enough. Reluctantly, Shadowsan nodded.

“You need the touch of another. You can’t complete without it.”

“Va te faire foutre, _say what you mean!_” hissed Devineaux. Shadowsan did not have a good grasp on the vulgarities of the French language, but he could make an educated guess.

“No, Mr. Devineaux,” he raised his gaze, looking the anxious man in the face. “It would be me fucking you.”

Devineaux sucked in a sharp breath.

“It is like _that_, then.” He said, after a moment. It wasn’t a question, but Shadowsan nodded.

“I meant no disrespect.”

The man laughed suddenly, loudly. It echoed through the small room, bouncing harshly back at them, and Agent Devineaux cast him a crooked smile.

“You mean much offense. You have a sharp tongue, but I like it.”

He sighed, reaching over the edge of the tub, and turned the water off, then carelessly tossed the showerhead into the bottom of the tub. It made a loud clang when it landed, and rattled back and forth before settling.

The room seemed smaller, much more intimate without the running water. Shadowsan could see the rapid rise and fall of Devineaux’s chest with each breath- his arms were thrown over the edge of the tub, keeping him slumped, but mostly upright. But this position pulled his soaked shirt tight against his chest, tugging it along his hard nipples – pink, visible through the cloth.

He must have noticed Shadowsan’s gaze, because Devineaux groaned low in his throat.

“For how long do you intend to sit there and watch me?” asked Devineaux, tense but breathless. He clenched and unclenched his hands, and his nipples hardened under Shadowsan’s gaze.

“….for as long as it takes for you to grow comfortable with the idea.”

The agent shifted his legs, and ran his teeth over his lip.

“I – I am, not _comfortable_. But, this feeling- it is getting worse.” He confessed.

It was easy to see that. The water made Devineaux’s pants cling to his legs, making his arousal painfully clear. It strained against the tight confines of his dress slacks, tenting them. Shadowsan watched it twitch under his gaze, and the agent gave a frustrated groan.

“…may I touch you?” asked Shadowsan.

Devineaux nodded, then swallowed heavily. “Yes. Yes, you may- you may t-touch me.”

He coloured in a very flattering way, bashful despite everything. It was endearing, how the simple words made him so flustered. Shadowsan decided he would ask him permission for more freedoms, later. Just to see that expression again.

He stood slowly, like the agent was a deer who might spook if he moved too fast. Water soaked into his socks from the puddles, but it was a small room. He was able to drop to one knee carefully before him within a few steps.

“I’m going to touch you.” He paused when he reached for him, coming up short with a sudden thought.

Agent Devineaux noticed, of course, tensing up. Shadowsan finished his motion, laying his hand softly on the top of his wet sock.

Oh, how he _shook. _ Devineaux quaked under his hand like a tree rocked in a high wind, chest heaving in deep breathes at the simple contact. Shadowsan noted his intense reaction, and filed it away. He wasn’t even touching his bare skin yet.

Slowly, like he was dealing with a spooked animal, he slid his hand up to Devineaux’s ankle. The agent was hot through the fabric, radiating warmth like he had a fever. Shadowsan tightened his grip, holding him firmly. His index finger edged up under the cuff of Devineaux’s pant, brushing bare skin.

Devineaux tensed, one hand holding the edge of the tub, the other twisting in his own shirt until the fabric started to split, a button slowly ripping loose. He was so tense that it looked painful, a soft whimper breaking free of him before he covered his mouth, eyes wide and panicked.

Shadowsan came to a decision.

_I want to take him to pieces. Until he cannot restrain himself._

He firmed his grip, shifting it up above his sodden sock, and pulled him sharply. The Frenchman dropped onto his back with a sharp yelp of surprise, dragged across the floor by Shadowsan. Without letting him gather his bearings, he moved to cover the taller man with his body. Shadowsan’s hand’s splashed into the puddles beside Devineaux’s shoulders, and he wedged his knee between his thighs.

His reaction was worth the effort. He’d been flushed before, but now the agent was scarlet, head tilted back and mouth open in a moan of surprise. Hot breath washing over Shadowsan’s face, and Devineaux’s hips pressed into Shadowsan’s knee, working his clothed erection against him in a helpless, erratic pace. He had his hands knotted in Shadowsan’s clothing, tugging restlessly, and now that he’d made eye contact couldn’t seem to look away.

“I’m sorry,” he panted, “I, I cannot seem to stop,” he twisted his hands restlessly, tugging him closer, and groaned again. Shadowsan dropped his hips until there was real pressure for Devineaux to work himself against, bracing himself on his arms to keep the rest of his body lifted. He couldn’t pretend this wasn’t affecting him; the agent had to feel it, rubbing against his hip with each of Devineaux’s frantic thrusts. But he could see how close he was, and there would be time enough for _that_, later.

“Then don’t.” Shadowsan said, a little breathless himself.

It seemed to be all he was waiting for. One of Agent Devineaux’s arm’s wormed around Shadowsan’s back, holding his hips firmly against him, hand clawing at his back as the agent arched against the floor with harsh shout and a string of half said curses. He grabbed at Shadowsan, pulled at his clothing as he came, neck tensed and an expression that did not look like relief on his face.

The room fell into a sort of soft silence, Devineaux’s panting breaths and the drip of the water slowly sliding down the drain rising to fill the quiet. Shadowsan remained close, braced uncomfortable with his elbow on the cool tile beside the Agent’s head. The small space between their faces was filled with Devineaux’s warm breath. In increments, the frenchman’s tight grip on his clothing loosened, and Shadowsan was able to raise his body slightly, until he was balanced on hands and knees rather then pressed awkwardly against Devineaux.

“You are—?" he asked trailed off. Devineaux nodded hastily.

“Still. Yes.” His hands tightened, pulling Shadowsan towards him—then loosed as if he had forced himself to, restrained his desire. He admired such control in the face of the pollen’s sway.

“We should move. This is not the place for—”

“Do not say it!” Devineaux barked harshly.

“I was not going to,” soothed Shadowsan, as he climbed slowly to his feet. Despite his protests, Devineaux did not seem able to release him; it was awkward, standing up with him leaning into, and then flinching away, from every touch. But they made their feet, and the agent stood several inches taller then him, but hunched over, his hands knotted tightly in the water darkened fabric of Shadowsan’s clothing.

“I simply thought you should not spend any time longer on the floor then you already have. We will go wherever you wish, if you would simply direct me.”

His words seemed to take the look of feral panic out of the ACME Agent’s face, the tense line of his shoulders dropping a little.

“I do not want to…” He trailed of, flushing, and tried again. “Not the—”

“Perhaps the living room?” Shadowsan suggested, cutting him off. Chase Devineaux was a tenacious opponent, and he would never make the mistake of under estimating his resolve again, but…

_But this situation is terrible. To be at a total loose of control_. He did not wish to shatter his confidence by pushing him to things he was not ready for. Shadowsan took a step backwards, and Devineaux went with him.

**Author's Note:**

> please check for additional tags next update!


End file.
